The Animals of Rome

Although I'm in a major city, and encounters with dangerous animals are few, there are still a couple of notable experiences that I would like to share with you all today. First of all, the pigeons. Being a New Yorker, I am used to pigeons, or as I like to call them, "rats with wings". How they are of the same family as the elegant dove is beyond me. Pigeons are pestilent, unfortunate creatures that travel in herds and detract from the scenery wherever they go. That being said, the pigeons in Rome are also BOLD. At least in New York, when you walk towards a pigeon, they usually fly away. Not here! The pigeons here will stand their ground, engaging you in a perverse game of 'chicken' to see who moves first. NB: The pigeon will not move first. You have to get out of the way or risk actually touching one of these foul things. This was not supposed to be a rant, but I decided to write this post due to the fact that A PIGEON ALMOST LANDED ON MY HEAD YESTERDAY. I was walking down the street, I saw a pigeon flying towards me, I figured it would move, and...it did, but only at the last minute. It was such a close call that I wondered if pigeons don't harbor some sort of advanced pre-cognitive capabilities specifically honed to the detection of human fear and disgust. I imagine it's similar to the thought process of the budding serial killer who tortures cute animals for fun. FYI: The picture above is of a pigeon who seems to be suffering for the sins of his brethren- probably diseased and with only one leg. It would be heart-wrenching if I hadn't met the others first.
My other animal experience was less death-defying, and actually kind of funny, with only a small margin of annoying thrown in there. After I wrote my post yesterday, waxing poetic about how fantastic my new apartment is, night fell...and the cats came out. Anyone who's ever read a Garfield comic strip knows that Garfield spends a fair amount of his time caterwauling on some poor neighbor's fence. Not until last night did I know that these entertaining comics had some basis in fact. At first I thought a child was making some sort of noise indicating pain, but then I remembered my old cat, Buster. Buster made a noise like this once, and Mom thought one of us was hurt. If you've seen the South Park movie, it's sort of like the sound of a dying giraffe, but in a higher register. Anyway, I digress. A number of the neighborhood cats started in on this strange symphony, until the only sound I could hear over the cacophony was the intermittent sounds of my own hysterical laughter. Should this continue to occur, I'm sure it will become much less entertaining, but for the time being, it's still pretty funny.